Our Fathers
by Emjay
Summary: Our decisions make us, they ultimately decide us... Lucius and Severus are caught between what is right, and what they must become. The makings of Death Eaters through the eyes of innocents....*Updated 20/04/03!!!*
1. Default Chapter

A/N: Well, my second Harry Potter fic…..The first one was a good idea, but crap nonetheless, and this idea has been proding me with a sharp stick ever since I saw Chamber of Secrets. [shivers] Lucious was so…._evil_. I was deeply inspired to write his story, even though it won't have a happy ending, and write it I will! The chapters will be slow, due to the fact that I'm writing this on a separate computer while my dad uses **this** computer to do work. It takes much effort on my part to transfer everything, especially when the computer I'm writing this on is nothing more than a pile of junk, and it's a Mac, while **this** computer is a PC. So as you can see, this is going to take a LONG time. But if you're up to a long, hard slog, than read and enjoy! And REVIEW too!!!! I crave reviews. If I do not get enough, I will die. Simple fact. 

Disclaimer: I may be very poor, but I am not the former J.K Rowling. I do not hope to make any money off this. I write simply for the sake of writing, and feeding my passion for literature. Do not hurt me. Please[cute puppy dog eyes].

Our Fathers

When your father is one type of man, he expects his son to be the same. When Lucious was young, he thought nothing of what his father wanted him to be, because that's not what a small boy thinks about. Lucious listened, and did what he was told, of course; even a man like Lucien Devura Malfoy would wish his son to be obedient. But in the early years of Lucious' life, Lucien did not take his own time and energy grilling him on what kind of person he was to be. He was lucky then. He would not be so lucky later.

Serlia Verreaux fell in love with Lucien Malfoy while still attending Beauxbatons in France. She was smart, beautiful, and headstrong, with a power deep inside of her that none could see. Lucien however, often prided himself in seeing the things that others could not, and knew instantly when he met her that she would be his wife, whether she loved him or not. Lucien had learned from his own father that love was just the first step in getting what you wanted out of people, and could easily be swept aside once the vows were read and the rings were exchanged. For all her smarts and insight, Serlia was utterly blind, and did not realize what was happening to her until it was too late.

They were married on the fifth of December, amidst the cold and the frost and the biting wind, at a small church near to the Malfoy mansion. Few attended; only the closest of friends and family were there to witness the binding, and it seemed Serlia was the only one who did not see how ill fated it all was to be. Her mother and father watched on with aching hearts as their only daughter was married off to a snake, but kept smiles on their lips. If Serlia had looked into their eyes, she would have known different. But in any case, she was still too high on puppy love, and her own eyes were still too glazed with youthful ignorance to see what she was doing. If her dearest Lucien had shoved a knife through her heart just then, she would have been none the wiser. For Gerrin and Renee Verreaux, it would be the last time they ever saw her as she truly was. In the years to follow, Serlia would become something much different.

For a while, Lucien was amused with his wife. He let her do the things she wished; visit friends, go on trips, whatever caught her fancy. In return, Serlia loved him, and obeyed his every command, all the while being smothered and frozen, just the start of the woman she would eventually be.

But soon, Lucien decided Serlia was just a little too independent, and had just a little too much freedom. Ever so slowly, he tightened the rope around her neck, made the leash a little smaller each day. Serlia continued to be oblivious, and went on with things as if nothing had happened.

Lucien watched with greedy eyes as she changed; her spirit diminishing, her lovely, full lips pinching, her face metamorphisising from the soulful youth, into a beautiful queen of ice, without emotion, without love. She had always been a desired woman to Lucien, but now that she was the person he craved her to be, she was all the more dark and alluring. As Serlia fell, Lucien grew, and soon the two became as Lucien's mother and father before him. He was the master, and she the obedient wife, who did whatever he asked without hesitation, without scruples. That was the way it was supposed to be, and Lucien constantly reminded her that she was in his possession, be it with words or not. Serlia accepted this, and did not question it.

Eventually, she bore Lucien a son, who was to be named Lucious. Silently, craftily, Lucien decided that his son would become him, a mirror to his father. What people saw in Lucien, they would see in Lucious. What they feared in the father, they would fear in the son. He would let Serlia raise him, but Lucien would always be there, dropping hints, giving suggestions, insinuating himself, like a deadly poison that spread before you could stop it. If Serlia had been as she once was, she would have taught Lucious what she'd been taught, the morals and ways of life she'd adopted as her own. But by then, her sparkling emerald eyes had long since lost their shine, frozen forever with bitterness and cruelty, and she quickly abandoned him for more fashionable and classy pursuits, leaving the nurse to see that Lucious was taken care of. Lucien did not approve of this at all, and soon approached his wife, demanding that she care for her son, instead of letting some wench dirty him with her filth.

"Where are you going?" Lucien asked testily one evening as Serlia buttoned up her coat, and was slipping her shoes on.

"Out." She replied simply, although inside she trembled with fear. Lucien's cold eyes were on her back, burning gaping holes through her skin.

"What about your son?"

"He's our son. Not _my_ son."

Lucien decided she had gone too far.

"Alright." He replied silkily, drawing up behind her and planting his slender hands firmly on her small shoulders. She jumped at his touch, but he did not let go, instead leaning closer, his breath hot on her neck. "He's _our_ son then. But don't you think you should be watching him? He's just a child. _Anything_ could happen to him…."

Serlia recognized a threat when she heard one.

She went on as steadily as she could, all the while feeling white terror coil around her chest.

"The-The nurse….She's reading him a story in the parlor…He'll be fine…." 

Serlia took a steadying breath, trying to dredge up even the smallest semblance of courage. Why was it she fell to pieces whenever Lucien was around?

Lucien's handsome face curled into a bone chilling smile.

"I really think that it's about time you took some interest in Lucious." He hissed, and Serlia trembled beneath him. "That dirty wench is a bad influence on him; baking sweets, telling stories, cooing him songs like some stupid child. If we're not careful, dearest wife, our son could grow up into some weak, spineless coward….and we wouldn't want that now would we?"

Serlia's reply was nothing more than a puff of frightened air. "No."

Lucien chuckled low in his throat, leaning forward to place a small bite on the side of her neck.

"That's what I thought…" He curled his smooth lips over the mark, sucking on it almost playfully. "Now, where should you be?"

"With Lucious." She whispered, her heart thumping wildly.

"Good girl."

With a flourish, Lucien was gone, leaving Serlia to stand alone in the hall, trembling and shaking as if she'd just felt death, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Trying to pull herself together, she somehow made her way to the parlor, opening the door slowly and ushering the nurse outside.

"I'm sorry." Was all she said to the young woman, wiping her eyes and smudging some of her makeup in the process.

Without another word, Serlia went inside to her son.

The nurse was dismissed the next day. 

A/N: Well, what do you think? I know it's short, but it's only the prologue, so please do not get angry. There will be much more Lucious in the next chapter! And some Severus too! I promise! I know this, because I have already written it. I was just trying to introduce Lucien and Serlia this time 'round, and show my readers what kind of parents Lucious had. What kind of environment he lived in. So R&R!!!!!!!!!! Prevent my demise!


	2. Beginings

A/N: Well, since no one reviewed the prologue, I am royally pissed, but I have enough heart to post another chapter. Perhaps THIS one will tickle your tastebuds, eh? Hopefully. Yeah, so this chapter is longer, and more happens. Plus, lots of yummy Lucius and Severus!! [giggles with glee] I have developed a fetish for anything dark/and/or/evil…Hehe. Well Enjoy!!!! And R&R!!!!!!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. So there! Nyah!

Chapter One

Lucius knew he was smart before he reached age six. Lucien however, did not. Lucius played dumb around his Father, because even at an early age, he understood his intentions, and was afraid of what it might mean for him. If that meant being punished for stupidity, then so be it. Lucius would have no part in his father's plan. He decided he would be his own man, if only on the inside. Even if that was all he had, it would keep him good, and pure, and unspoiled by Lucien's insidious poison.

He worried about his mother though. It became very clear to Lucius that she had once been someone very different from the person she was now. She did her best to raise Lucius, with the occasional suggestion or two from Lucien, but for the most part, Lucius raised himself. The nurse had been the kind of person he'd wanted to be. He'd always thought of her as a wild, beautiful rose within the strangling hold of thorn bushes. It had been hard at first to see her go, and no longer have any guide as to what was _truly_ right and what was _truly_ wrong. He soon had to decide those things for himself, all the while playing the idiot, not letting his father know his true intentions.

Of course, Lucien was not happy about this. Lucius often feared the times when his father's beautiful face would twist into malice, frustrated and angry at his son's inability to understand even the simplest things. Lucius often wondered it he'd once been something good and pure, if Lucien's own parents had poisoned him, making him something evil and cruel. He wondered if he'd suffered harsh blows from his father, or hurting words of disgust from his mother. He wondered if the only reason Lucien was the way he was, was because he'd been spoilt, as every Malfoy man had before him. What if in the beginning, the Malfoy's had been something good, or at least better than the slime they had become? Lucien often had times to think about this, locked away in his cold, dark room, piles of toys and wonderful things around him, and yet still feeling utterly sad and alone.

~*~*~

When Lucious was eight, he found something, something that became his passion. The Malfoy mansion was in itself too large for him to have ever seen or known about every single room within its dark and foreboding walls, but he sometimes would explore when Lucien was not home, for Serlia did not care one way or another what her son did. There were four floors, each dominated by a long, almost never ending hall, where uncountable doors lined the walls; most of which were locked, and therefore prevented Lucius from searching further, but that did not dampen his curiosity, and so he usually found other means of getting past the locks, even if it meant destroying the mechanisms beyond repair. He couldn't imagine his busy father ever finding time to check each and every room to ensure they had not been breached, for he had better things to do. The house was just where he lived, and he had no care to what his son saw and didn't see.

Serlia was busy reading a thick, leather bound book on a stiff couch in their parlor when Lucius sneaked away out the back door, leaving his toys in a pile where he'd been sitting. Serlia took no notice, turning another yellowed page which crackled in protest. 

"I'm going up to my room." He said softly, just to make sure she didn't worry too much.

Serlia sighed, but Lucius wasn't sure whether it was a sign of recognition or not. He simply closed the door with a click, then pulled aside a dust ridden tapestry, and opened the hidden passageway he'd found when he was six, skittering up the dark stairwell. The sconces on the winding wall were long since put out, and Lucius had no means of lighting them, so he relied on the dim light and his own eyesight alone making his way to the second floor.

Once he reached another stone door, Lucius groped around in the dark, searching for the block he had to push. It took a few moments, but he soon pushed the right stone and the door groaned open, scraping against the floor. Pushing it shut behind him, Lucius stepped into the long hall, the candlelight flickering on his pale face and alone the paintings and even more tapestries that decorated the walls. It was not the main passage on the second floor, but most were always lighted, be the a frequented place or not. Lucius had already been in nearly all the rooms already, but there were a few that had still eluded him so far.

Determined to at least find his way into one of them that afternoon, Lucius sauntered off to the far end of the hallway, counting off the ones he'd looked at, until he found the four that were still locked. They were just the same as all the others, but being as curious as he was, Lucius had a deep yearning to explore, and so knelt down by the closest knob, jingling around in the lock with a pin he'd filched from his mother's room. He knew she didn't wear it, so what she didn't care about, she wouldn't miss. The mechanism however, was protesting, and after nearly half and hour, Lucius' brow was clicked with sweat, and he still had gotten no further.

"Nothing good is worth having," he told himself, brow creased in concentration, "unless it takes hard work to get it."

His own words didn't sound very convincing, but he took another stab at the lock nonetheless, feeling a surge of joy when it finally gave and clocked open. Stowing the pin in his pocket, thankful that it had not been damaged too much, Lucius turned the knob and gave a shove, stumbling into the dark room.

He could see very little, and what moonlight there was, shone filtered through a sheet that hung over the large, lone window in the center of the back wall. The pieces of furniture about the room were also covered with white sheets, and one large shape dominated the right corner, which used too swathes of fabric to cover it entirely. That caught Lucius' attention immediately, and he went straight to it, pulling back the sheets carefully with trembling anticipation. Once they had been tugged free, Lucius' stomach did a little flip-flop as his silvery gray eyes landed on the magnificent shape of a shimmering ebony grand piano, its ivory still pristine and untouched as if it had never been used before.

Lucius took a heaving breath, a slow smile creeping on his thin lips. He'd never seen a piano of any shape or form before, but he'd heard it being played enough to love the sound, and to instantly want to play something beautiful, even though he didn't have a clue how to do it properly.

"It's gorgeous." He whispered, running a tentative hand over the shining keys, jumping as he pressed a touch too hard on one, its sound ringing clear as a bell around the near empty room. It lingered for a moment, then faded into silence. Lucius immediately wanted to hear it again. He pressed the same key, this time with more zeal. The note rang louder, and Lucius felt a shiver run down his spine. It was slightly disappointing that he didn't know how to play like the real pianists he'd heard when he was younger, but the thrill of having a real piano before him was enough. More than enough.

Much to his surprise, the grandfather clock sitting unnoticed in the corner ran seven times, and Lucius realized he'd been gone far too long. His father would be home soon, and Lucien would not have his son wandering about unminded, so with great reluctance, Lucius backed away from the piano, and worked his way back to the secret stair case and eventually strode into the salon, sitting back down with his toys. They never ceased to not amuse him, but he tinkered around with them anyway, just to please his parents.

Serlia was no longer sitting on the couch, but Lucius could smell the delicious scent of dinner being concocted in the kitchen, and surmised she would be readying herself in her room. He heard the front door open down the hall, and felt the flurry of cold wind pass through the first floor before Lucien shut it again. Lucius shivered, half because of the chill, and half because he would have to face his father again, and have nothing to tell him about his day. Lucien demanded that he report all that he had accomplished during each day, but Lucius could hardly say the he'd gone up a secret staircase, broken into one of the locked rooms on the second floor and touched something that he obviously wasn't supposed to. Lucien often became angry when Lucius had nothing to report, and Lucius feared that this time would be one too many.

With a flourish, Lucien strode into the salon, his dark red robes billowing around him in a great bell. His glittering silver eyes were alive with chilling mirth, and Lucius shivered again, staring at the floor.

"Lucius, where is your mother?" he asked, sinking gratefully into one of their straight backed armchairs.

"Upstairs I think." Lucius murmured to his feet. "Dinner is being prepared."

Lucien smiled, and for a moment, Lucius thought he could see what might have been a shadow of his father's former startling beauty. Of course, he was still alarmingly handsome, but it was frozen with the chill of cruelty and darkness. His long, somewhat pointed face turned to Lucious, and it faded a fraction.

"How was your day?" he queried, that calculating look in his eye.

Lucius felt his face draining of what colour it held.

"It…ah…it was good. I did a lot of reading..."

"Reading." Lucien interrupted, his voice like ice. "What does reading accomplish? Have you been working at your studies?"

"Yes." Lucius lied. "Yes, I have been. It just….have had lots of extra time."

Lucien looked as if he didn't quite believe him, but said nothing more, and retrieved his pipe from where it lay on the coffee table, muttering a spell under his breath which sent it into flaming life. He took a long, satisfying drag, then exhaled, and Lucius had the distinct impression that he was purposefully trying to blow the smoke in his general direction. He wrinkled his nose in disgust when he was sure his father wasn't looking, then politely excused himself, spouting the story that he was going to prepare for dinner, while in truth, he was just desperately trying to escape the horrid stench. Once he was safely in the hall, he took a deep breath of clean air, then ran up to his room and changed, quickly throwing on some nicer clothing.

With a sigh, he plunked himself in front of the large oval mirror beside his bed, giving his reflection a foul grimace.

He looked just like his father. Almost exactly like Lucien Devura Malfoy, right down to the white blonde hair curling around his ears, and his long slender face, which held all the cold beauty his father posessed. He almost felt sick just looking at himself. Would he become like Lucien? Would he turn cold and cruel, and eventually marry a woman if only to corrupt her to his own use? Was that his future? Lucius dearly hoped not. He wouldn't be able to stand it if he became his father, because then one day his own son would become him, and history would just keep repeating itself, and nothing would ever change.

His stomach knotting itself into a black pit, Lucius somehow found the courage to go back downstairs, where the table was set and Lucien and Serlia were just sitting down. Lucius seated himself at the other end of the table, as was customary, waiting until the steaming dinner appeared on his golden plate. Serlia daintily picked up her fork, glancing at Lucien from under her thick black lashes. Lucien gave her a cold grin, then picked up his own fork, and Lucius could see Serlia shiver perceptively. They ate in silence, barely a word was spoken, and Lucien tried not to think about where he was, and what he was doing. His mind was solely on the grand piano where it sat in the forgotten room, and he felt his stomach do another funny flip-flop in remembrance of the clear, lovely sound it had made. He would do everything in his power to make sure Lucien never discovered it, or discovered where he was during his days alone, because it was very clear that if he did know, then all his afternoon trips would most definitely stop. Lucius didn't know how he would survive without them. 

Finally, the remnants of their dinner disappeared, and Lucien rose, striding purposefully into the billiards room. A few moments later, the distinct crack of the balls being broken from their neat triangle echoed into the dinning room, and Serlia flinched. Lucius could see the tears beginning to form in her cold eyes. His heart ached to help her, but he knew she would never accepts his pity. Instead, he simply let her be, and shuffled into their library, burying himself in a good book. Lucious wasn't an exceptionally good reader, and he didn't particularly like books all that much, but he enjoyed the stories, and how they took him away from his own life for just a little while. It made things easier sometimes.

Later, when Lucius couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, and his candle was nearly drowning in its own fluids, he finally put aside the engrossing novel and dragged himself up to his room. He crawled under the covers, curling into a tight ball to battle the cold that was creeping into his skin. It was never warm in the Malfoy estate. Even when the fire was blazing in their salon, it was still perpetually cold.

What Lucius didn't know however, was that no matter how hard he tried to evade the poison that was his father, he would always be cold. Utterly and perpetually cold.

~*~*~

Over the next few days, Lucius' routine was much the same as any other day. The next morning, he woke and came down to a warm breakfast where he ate alone. Lucien was already at work at the Ministry, and his Mother was either still in bed or had just decided to evade him that morning, hiding away like she usually did. After his stomach was relatively full, he strode outside into their monstrous garden, weaving along the path in deep thought. He came there every morning, to clear his head and organize his cluttered thoughts. The fresh, faintly scented air was just what he needed after his father's suffocating pipe smoke that often lingered even hours once it had been put out. Over the years, the smell simply soaked into the walls and stayed there, and so at all times, the Malfoy estate held the disgusting aroma of pipe smoke which crept up on you when you least expected it and sent you into a coughing fit at the merest hint of the smell. Lucius did his best to stay clear of the places Lucien smoked in the most, but it seemed to move around the house on its own free will and somehow always round him whether he liked it or not.

The sky was relatively clear that morning, and the sun peeked bravely from behind streams of wispy clouds, shining warmly on Lucius' neck and his bare arms. He wore nothing more than a thin creamy coloured shirt which tied up at the front and earth brown shorts that were still too big for him, even though he'd had them for several years. They hung down to his knees, often covering the dirt stains that Lucius sometimes acquired on his morning walks. Their gardener was very good, but every so often, he would miss a weed or two, and Lucius often took it upon himself to pull it out, which resulted in getting his knees quite scraped and dirtied indeed. Lucien would be appalled if he knew his son was 'rolling around in the mud', as he often said about playing in the garden, and his long shorts were quite useful for making sure he was not discovered before he had time to clean himself up.

This particular day, Lucius spotted Mr. Llombred, the gardener, puttering around a patch of brightly coloured bushes, muttering things to himself and taking a snip here and there. Lucius strode up to him, watching over his shoulder as the young man went about his business. He knew he wasn't supposed to talk to the "hired work", but he did anyway.

"What are those?" he asked politely, so quietly he wasn't sure at first that he had been heard.

Mr. Llombred paused, turning around and looking at Lucius as if he'd grown two heads. It was quite obvious that he knew who Lucius was, and seemed terribly surprised that he would take time to speak to him, let alone take interest in what he was doing.

"P-Pardon?"

"What are those?" Lucius repeated, giving the bushes a critical eye. "I've never seen those kind before."

Mr. Llombred took a moment to gather himself, moving backward a step and looking from the Lucius to the bushes, then back again. His brows were furrowed together, and his pull lips quivered a little as if he didn't have a clue what to say to that. Lucius waited patiently for an answer, crouching down and tenderly touching one bloom that was sprouting from the rich green branches.

"I don't know." Mr.Llombred admitted, scratching his head a little. "They just came in a few days ago. I have….no idea what they are because I can honestly say I have never seen this kind of shrub before."

Lucius frowned.

"My father picked it out?"

"Yes, I believe Sir Malfoy did. He talked to my superior about it."

"Hmm. Well, they're very nice."

Lucius spotted a hint of a proud smile light Mr.Llombred's youthful features. His sea green eyes glittered, catching the light of the sun now shining full against them.

"I make sure all my plants are healthy." He told Lucius. "They should all be beautiful. After all, that's what your father pays me for."

Lucius rose, giving the man a wane smile. He strode away, waving for a bit, then jogged back along the stone path and stopped under the shade of a small patio, picking up a glass of water that had appeared there upon his arrival. He downed it in one gulp, then went inside, once more suffocated by the faint lingering smell of pipe smoke. It didn't surprise him that it was distinctly colder inside than outside in the winter morning, but he just shrugged it off. He'd lived with it for eight years already. He wouldn't start letting it bother him now of all times.

Much to his surprise, without so much of a sound, his father appeared out of the shadows, wearing an emerald green robe and a grim smile.

"Where have you been?" he snapped, holding his staff in a firm grip.

Lucius shivered, trying not to let his fear show through his expressionless façade.

"I was taking a walk." He explained, staring at the floor. "It helps clear my head before I start my studies…."

"Your studies will be postponed for today." Lucien interrupted, grasping Lucius' shoulders and steering him down the hall, deep into the dark bowels of the Malfoy estate. "We are having visitors. They will be arriving in under an hour. You need to chance," he cast a disapproving eye over Lucius' somewhat threadbare clothing with a slight sneer, "and then ready the parlor with your mother…"

"Who's coming?" Lucius whispered, as politely as he could manage under the situation.

"Vessaire and Lucile Snape, with their son. We've invited them for a dinner. You would never have met them before….you were too young the last time they were here."

"How come they haven't come since then? It's been at least seven years, from what you say about me being too young….."

Lucien gripped his shoulders tighter, and Lucius grimaced, trying not to flinch away.

"Enough questions. Do what you're told. I shouldn't have to ask you twice Lucius."

Once they were in the main hall again, Lucien let go a disappeared, leaving Lucius to do as he was bid. He tried not to frown. The tiny pit of anger in his gut seemed to double with his efforts, but he squashed it down again. It was always there, and whether he willed it or not, it would sometimes grow as Lucius put off his frustration and bitterness. It was like a bottle which stored his bubbling and churning emotions. Whenever he quelled his feelings, it would overflow a little, and the bottle would have to grow to make sure it all stayed in. Lucius tried to keep it one size, because he knew if he let his emotions overpower him, he would become just like Lucien, and he did not want that to happen. It was almost like either way, Lucius would become his father, and there was nothing he could do to stop the poison from spreading.

With a frustrated gurgle, Lucius ran up to his room again, flopping on his bed and screaming into his pillow. The goose-down plump of fabric absorbed the sound, but it still seemed harsh and loud in Lucius' ears.

When would he ever escape this? Was he doomed to live his entire life surrounded by evil and suffocated by smoke and forced to be constantly cold? Wasn't there anything he could do?

Before he could stop them, Lucius felt the tears spilling down his cheeks and wetting the pillow, burning like hot fire over his pale, chilled skin. He bit his tongue to keep himself from sobbing, but the tears came nonetheless in a streaming torrent, fierce and unstoppable. Lucius had never cried in his life, he'd never allowed himself that simple luxury, but now that he was crying, it was the one thing he wanted most. If Lucien ever knew, there would be hell to pay, but Lucius swore he would never find out. Never.

Once the tears had finally dried up, he changed into more formal clothing. He despised the green robes his father had picked out on a long ago shopping outing, for they made him look too much like Lucien, adding to their already hauntingly similar features, but he had no choice. If he showed up downstairs in anything but the emerald robes, he would never hear the end of it.

After he combed his hair a little, and given himself one last sour look in the mirror, Lucius shuffled down the grand staircase and up to his mother where she waited by the front door. The glittering chandelier above them shone like a burning brand on his make, making Lucius' neck prickle with the beginnings of sweat. A picture in midnight blue robes, Serlia smoothed some bunched up fabric at her waist, clasping her hands tightly in front of her. She gave Lucius a brief look, then strode away, her high shoes clicking along the marble floor.

Lucious sighed heavily, glancing out the side window just in time to see what was undoubtedly the Malfoy's black town car pull up out front. The driver skittered out from the front seat, running around to open the side door. Vessaire Snape glided out, followed closely by Lucile in her flowing skirts. A small boy came after, but Lucius was too far away to get a good look at him. The three marched up the front walk, and Lucius winced as they rung the bell. With another sigh, he opened the door for them.

"Lucius." Lucile purred, sliding out of her long coat and draping it along his arm. "It's a pleasure to see you again. You were so young last we were here…."

Vessaire merely dumped his own coat without a word, his nose slightly upturned as if he thought Lucius was nothing more than dirt on his shoe. The small boy hovered behind his parents, clutching a large book to his chest. His dark eyes caught Lucius' for a moment, and Lucius couldn't help but get the feeling that the boy was afraid of him, despite his set shin and firm shoulders.

Vessiare and Lucile swept away into the parlor where Serlia and Lucien were waiting, but the boy stayed where he was, his eyes flitting around him, regarding the hall with a silent awe. Lucius shifted uneasily, then opened the side closet where the enchanted coat hanger snatched the jackets and promptly hung them on its long arms.

"Would you like to go up to my room?" Lucius asked quietly, playing with his fingers somewhat nervously.

The boy shrugged.

"Not really." He whispered, still looking around. "Do you….um…do you have a library?"

"Yes. Would you like to go there instead?"

The boy's dark eyes shone a little lighter. "Mmm. Please."

Lucius led the boy up to the second floor, and together they walked side by side down the long hall. The paintings leered at them in the flickering light, and haunting tapestries hung in all their dusty glory, popping up in your side vision when you least expected it. Lucius was grateful that there was no lingering pipe smoke staining the already somewhat musty air. He had a sudden urge to impress this small, sullen faced boy, and knew that there were very few folk in the world who _appreciated_ the distinct smell of tabacco, and he supposed the boy was not one of those people.

"What's your name?" Lucius asked him, once they were nearing the great double door that announced the giant library.

"Severus." He replied, still glancing around and soaking everything in.

"Hmm." Lucius murmured awkwardly. "That's a—nice name…."

"Don't be polite. It's a horrible name."

Severus' blunt, expressionless interruption knocked Lucius off his balance. He stared open mouthed at Severus, but he continued to ignore him, simply holding his book and acting as if for all the world he had said nothing at all.

"Alright." He mumbled. "Well, I'm Lucius."

There was an awkward silence between them, until Lucius shoved the library doors open and swept inside, watching the candles in their brackets flare to life, glimmering against the red painted walls and rows of old, dusty books. Severus took this all in without saying a word, walking through the rows and touching the spines of the moldy volumes, taking one or two out and brushing the thick layer of dusty from the cover with one slender hand. The golden letters glittered back at him, telling Severus their various stories, and showing titles that had not been read in ages.

"No one usually comes here." Lucius explained. "And I don't look at many of them. My shelf is over here…."

He led Severus to the back where a few cushy chairs were placed, gesturing to a small, nearly hidden shelf occupying the space under one long fabric draped window. Severus crouched down and regarded the small assortment of books carefully, a small smile on his face.

"Do you like to read?" he asked quietly, rising and slumping into one of the green velvet chairs.

Lucius shrugged.

"Not really. I only come in here to get away and be alone."

Severus nodded knowingly. He opened his mouth to say something, but abruptly closed it, his dark eyes becoming somewhat distant. Lucius didn't question him about it. He had his own secrets, and Severus obviously had his. Right then was not the time for revealing secrets, when neither of them knew the other beyond names. Lucius simply said nothing, slumping down beside Severus with a faint sigh.

"What are you reading?"

Severus jumped a little at the question, but offered the thick book to Lucius nonetheless. Lucius looking at the cover where thin, curving green letters proudly stated: _Potions Grade 1_. Lucius wasn't quite sure what to say at first, but without having to ask, Severus supplied an explanation.

"My powers showed themselves when I was merely two." He said, brushing one strand of sleek black hair behind his ear. "My father immediately began teaching me the basics. This," he motioned to the book, "is fairly recent. I have only just begun looking over the rudimentary potions and their properties. However, by my calculations, by the time I begin proper schooling, I will have already leant the first year."

Lucius was blown away. Lucien had decided to begin teaching him too, but because of Lucius' firm decision to play stupid, he had not gotten far. If he tried, could he get as far as Severus? Could he be that good?

"That's interesting." He whispered, feeling very awkward again.

Without warning, Lucien suddenly Apparated in front of them, his handsome features all the more enhanced in the flickering light. Lucious, who was not used to this, jumped in his seat, his stomach rising into his throat. Severus, however, merely paled, no doubt unnerved by the powerful presence Lucien commanded.

He gave them a chilling smile.

"Why don't you boys come downstairs? It would be rude to ignore your guests."

He gave Lucius a pointed stare.

Lucius didn't want to go, but it was obvious they had no choice.

"We'll be down in a minute." He answered, giving Severus a wary look. Lucien Dissapparated with a faint pop.

Lucius shivered, then rose, motioning for Severus to follow. The small boy was still distinctly pale, and had begun shivering a little too, but other than that he looked alright. Lucius was terribly embarrassed, though he tried not to show it. Neither said anything as they made their way back downstairs. The tension was strung out so heavily between them he could almost feel it pressing down on his shoulders. He couldn't believe Lucien had ruined what might have been a friendship with Severus by scaring the living daylights out of him with his cold eyes and chilling smiles. He was so angry…..Severus was so very much like him, but he was probably too put off by the whole experience for them to have anything resembling a friendship now.

"Don't feel sorry." Severus whispered.

"What?!" Lucius asked incredulously. Could this small, unassuming little boy know _everything_ about him?

"You're embarrassed." Severus insisted. "And, you think you should be sorry for everything your father does. You seem to think you're accountable for his actions."

Lucius snorted.

"That's right." He chuckled darkly. "My father's the one who should be accountable for _me_….I'm the one who he's ashamed of."

"Why?"

"It's none of your business."

Severus looked as if he wanted to say something more, but Lucius had the feeling he wasn't the kind of person who would say: "Well maybe I should make it my business." He was sure it would be something serious and soul shaking, if he was going to say anything at all. Severus didn't seem like the kind of person who said things, just for the sake of saying them.

"Do you think you and your parents will come back after tonight?" he asked, half hoping Severus would say yes. 

"My parents and yours have been friends since their own school days. I'm kind of surprised it's been so long since they actually took time to visit one another. But, yes, we'll probably be back….Why do you ask?"

Lucius shifted uneasily.

"I don't know."

He wanted to say that he was lonely, and needed someone like Severus. He wanted to say that he didn't want to be an island of good surrounded by bad. He wanted to say a lot of things, but he didn't know what Severus would think if he did. But Severus simply smiled a little, and Lucius had the feeling that even though he didn't say what he wanted to say, he knew anyway. 


	3. Animosity

A/N: Well, it's been a while, there's no doubting it. And I want to say a great big: SORRY to my only reviewer Sairavanie(you're wonderful!), that I made you wait so long. This chapter is long, very long. I've been writing it on my hunk-a-junk laptop and the program actually made me stop writing because the file was too big ^_^. Well, I hope you like it! Lots more Sevvi-kins and lovely Lucius, and even a cameo from two of our tricksy Marauders…..*grins*

Disclaimer: All characters, names, and places belong to the mighty J.K. Rowling and all her affiliates. I do not intend to infringe on any copyrights. The only thing I seek to do by writing this is give my favorite character(s) some redemption because they so sorely deserve it. 

Chapter Two

Outside, the wind howled and moaned, throwing itself mercilessly against the enchanted walls and windows. Through the gale, small flecks of snow made their way bravely to the icy ground, tumbling and twisting, thrown off course and hurled in all directions. It seemed that they were flying in every direction but the ground from where Lucius sat at his bedroom window. The lawn out front was nearly bare, and any snow that did reach the green turf was immediately picked up and tossed around again. Lucius couldn't help but feel like every one of them, thrown about in every direction without stable ground to land on.

His tenth birthday had just passed, and even though he was a year older, he didn't feel any different. He didn't have amazing things to remember, or life altering experiences to look back on and think about how much he had changed; because, he hadn't changed. He was still Lucien Malfoy's son. He still lived in a cold, lonely mansion. He still was smart, but couldn't let anyone know about it. His life was no different than it had been for the past ten years, and he didn't think it was going to change any time soon. Now while Lucien had him still very much wrapped around his finger.

After the dinner, it was at least a month until Lucius saw Severus again. Lucius was forced to return to his every day routine as he had been doing nearly his entire life. He wasn't quite brave enough to go back and see the piano again though. Lucien was taking his vacation, and so most of the time watched Lucius with a very careful eye, putting up with his stupidity and bearing it all mostly in silence. There were a few instances where Lucius was certain he heard yelling coming from his parent's room at night.

Forced to return to his studies, Lucius had allowed himself to at least progress a little. He couldn't feign stupidity forever, because Lucien wouldn't believe it forever. Sooner or later he would catch on, and then Lucius' plan would fall apart. He couldn't let that happen. He had to make sure Lucien was fooled for as long as he could; hopefully until he started proper schooling, where he would be away from home for the greater part of the year.

Most of his spare time was spent thinking about school. His father told him he was going to Hogwarts, which was hailed as one of the best schools for witchcraft and wizardry in Europe. All the Malfoys had gone there, except for a few whom had transferred to Durmstrang early along in their millennia spanning family line, and it was expected that Lucius would be attending as well. Lucius wasn't so sure. If Lucien thought he was completely incapable of even the simplest of concepts, why would he send him to a school that had high expectations? What if he knew that he really wasn't as stupid as he put on? Lucius was still pretty sure that Lucien was still ignorant to his true nature, but he would have to be extra careful from then on.

One morning, only a few days after the dinner party, Lucius woke up to a loud crash from the first floor. There was a shriek, and the distinct thump of something large and heavy hitting the floor. As Lucius tore down the winding stairwell, another shriek followed the first, and as he approached the salon doors, a small shape streaked out in a blur of battleship gray. Whatever it was didn't get far, and crashed headlong into a table placed by the door which led into the basement, sending the vase of deep red roses perched upon it crashing to the floor. Lucius had barely enough time to contemplate what had just transpired, before Lucien burst through the haphazardly opened salon doors, his face like thunder, black robes billowing around him threateningly.

Three servants appeared out of nowhere, their faces demurely downcast.

"Take it." Lucien ordered, motioning to whatever it was that had collided with the table. "Remove its pillowcase and toss it outside."

The servants hauled the small figure to its feet, and Lucius stifled a gasp.

It was a house elf.

The little thing cowered under Lucien fiery gaze, his large, watery eyes nearly covered by the drooping ears hanging limply beside his drawn and wrinkled face. He trembled and shook, looking as if for all the world his life had ended, wringing his hands nervously in front of him. He would not look anyone in the eyes, and seemed to whimper softly under his breath, muttering unintelligible things to himself.

"You've squandered your last chance Bobin." Lucien growled, looking down on him from over his long, straight, perfect nose. "You will not receive another."

With that, the rather torn and dirty pillowcase wrapped around his wiry form was roughly snatched away. The elf, supposedly called Bobin, shrieked with dismay, pulling his ears over his face, which was now saturated by big, wet tears. He wriggled and protested as two tight lipped servants dragged him away, pleading and sobbing in his squeaky voice for Lucien to give him one more chance. Lucien merely sniffed dismissively, then turned to see Lucius standing nearby, completely shell-shocked by the whole experience.

Lucius visibly shuddered as Bobin was tossed outside, his cried fading then disappearing entirely once the front doors were slammed shut. Lucien strode over and took hold of Lucius' upper arm, steering him up the stairs and into his study.

"Sit down." Lucien told him, walking over to his mahogany liquor cabinet and drawing one crystal bottle. Uncapping the lid, he poured himself a glass in another crystal cup.

"What happened?" Lucius whispered, still shaking a little.

Lucien took a sip of the bronze liquid, his thin eyebrows furrowing as if he didn't quite know himself.

"Your mother came into the salon this morning," he began at length, "and being the fool that he is, that house elf you saw hadn't finished cleaning in time for him to disappear. Serlia was so surprised to see him she screamed, which startled Bobin, and he knocked over his first vase of the day." He paused, and Lucius though he could see a chilling grin sitting precariously on the edge of Lucien's lips. "Supposedly, that was your mother's favorite vase, and she was so upset by the whole ordeal that she fainted. Bobin simply couldn't control himself after that. He obviously realized how stupid he'd been, and that what he'd done was unforgivable, and so he tried to escape. Luckily, that table was there to stop him."

A cold chuckle freed itself from Lucien's throat. Lucius couldn't help but shiver at the sound of it.

"Why did you-----do what you did to him?" he asked timidly, almost fearing the anger his father had so clearly displayed moments earlier himself. He knew first hand what it was like to be on the receiving end when Lucien was furious. Being the weak creature that he was, Lucius was positive Bobin had been shattered. Lucius didn't think he'd ever seen anyone in so much agony and despair before.

"I sacked him." Lucien replied curtly. "Plain and simple. You don't keep what isn't useful."

Lucius didn't like the sound of that.

The two were silent for a while. Lucien moved over to the window, looking outside into into the bleary gray sky. It seemed winter was coming a tad early that year, and the few scattered trees in the garden were beginning to loose their multi-coloured leaves. Some branches were already bare. Moving over to stand beside his father, Lucius glanced down into the garden as well, spotting Mr. Llombred hovering over a particularly sour looking bush, snipping scraggly bows here and there, running a hand through his golden hair every down and again in frustration. Lucius couldn't help but smile. He was quite fond of the young man. He had a way of his own that couldn't be tainted or scarred by the evil surrounding him. Most of all, he had a sort of lingering innocence that made him completely clueless to the fact that the Malfoy family were wizards. Of course, they all took careful measures to make sure they were not discovered by their Muggle gardener, but there were some instances where strange things happened around the Malfoy estate, and if you were really looking, you would suspect something was afoot. Mr. Llombred however, was too absorbed in his passionate work to ever notice, and Lucius was glad for it. He didn't suppose Mr. Llombred would hang around very long once he discovered who he was really working for.

"Did you and Severus have a good time at dinner?" Lucien asked distractedly, his clear eyes catching something that he obviously disliked, making his lips pinch a little.

Lucius, somewhat surprised, took a moment to answer.

"Uh….y-yes." He said. "I think so…."

"Good." Lucien said simply, turning to face his son, a strange glint appearing in his gaze. "They will be coming more often now, the Snapes. There are matters in the wizarding world that have come up best discussed between friends."

Lucius felt his heart rise at the thought of Severus coming back, even daring to smile a little. Lucien looked pleased. He lay one hand on Lucius' small shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. Lucius didn't like it all that much, since he so rarely received such gestures of affection from his father. If he was acting so now, there was obviously something he was up to.

"I'm glad that you and him are friends." He said softly, and Lucius could almost see the gears working in his father's head, calculating and planning. "Severus will be attending Hogwarts as well, from what Vessaire tells me." He paused for a moment. "Hopefully you will be both in the same house. Slytherin no doubt. The entire Malfoy family has been in that house. There is no reason why you wouldn't."

"No." Lucius agreed, even though he didn't have much of an idea as to what he was agreeing with.

"Next year." Lucien mused, almost wistful. "Next year…."

He trailed off, moving away from Lucius and sitting lightly in a nearby chair. His black robes swayed around his feet slowly, the light slanting through the window illuminating his fair face and giving the impression of a powerful king sitting upon his mighty throne. Lucius didn't like it, much as he didn't like many things about his father, and found himself looking away and sliding closer to the window, as if to soak up its light and escape the darkness creeping up on him from behind. He could hear Lucien humming softly under his breath, some old tune Lucius had never heard before, and shuddered involuntarily. Something so good as music should never come from such a dirty mouth.

"When are they coming again?" he blurted, keeping his eyes looking outside.

There was a brief pause.

"Hmm?" Lucius could feel his father's eyes on him now.

"I said, when are they coming again? The Snapes."

Lucien took a short breath. "Oh yes. Of course. We've planned for another visit sometime a month now. Vessaire is very busy at the Ministry at this moment, as I will be once my time off has expired, and that is the only chance we can all be together."

Lucius nodded, somewhat disappointed.

"What about Severus?" he pressed, emboldened by the fell of the sun on his face. "I don't suppose he would be doing anything….Couldn't he come? By himself?"

He turned just enough to see his father out of the corner of his eye. Lucien was smirking, almost as if he thought Lucius' question silly. This did not improve his nerves at all.

"Severus is currently deep in his own studies, and is progressing well. I believe it would be unfair to him to pull him from his work when he is going to hard."

Lucius was very certain his father shot a very pointed stare in his direction, and almost let himself feel hurt.

"You will see him in a month. Be patient. One might think you were too eager to leave your family."

Lucius couldn't help but feel his insides grow cold. How as it that Lucien seemed to know everything about him, just as Severus seemed to? Was he that easy to read? Suddenly cautious again, Lucius tried to erase any emotion from his face, keeping his eyes as blank as was possible. Lucien was still watching him very closely, as if expecting an answer to confirm his suspicions. Lucius wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"I've been alone all my life." He muttered, turning around fully and trying to keep the sudden courage within him from fading under the intense heat of Lucien's stern gaze. "Would you deny your own son a friend? Would you suspect him of wishing to leave his only family, just because he expressed a desire to see someone with whom he shared common interests?"

The longer Lucien kept silent, the more Lucius began to fully regret having spoken so boldly. He could feel his heart recoil at the thought of Lucien becoming angry with him. He was fairly certain that he didn't have enough strength to hold up against Lucien's fury. He just wasn't that strong.

"I am not trying to hold you back." Lucien finally replied, and the earlier smirk was long gone from his lips. "I just believe that since Severus is so busy, it would be best to wait until the entire Snape family can attend. And besides Lucius, it would be a very opportune time for you to work at your own studies. I have noticed you are having some problems…."

Lucius knew he was just saying that to get a rise out of him, but couldn't help but feel his temper soar at the disbelief his father had the gall to say what he only ever voiced to Serlia. Lucius knew his father was someone who didn't hesitate to say what he thought, but he was more diplomatic about it, and usually found more subtle ways of speaking his opinion. That was where his poison lay, in the little things, the quieter things. Lucius was bright enough to realize he had inherited this certain trait.

Without thinking, Lucius decided to ride his anger, uncaring of the possible result.

"I'm doing just fine." He snapped, turning and fixing his boldest stare on Lucien. "Just because you may be smart, doesn't necessarily mean that I will be too. I could perhaps be brilliant, but am unable to blossom because I am receiving inadequate aid."

He knew the second he said it he'd gone too far. Lucien was on his feet in a flash, towering over Lucius in all his frightening glory. Lucius felt his knees turn to jelly underneath him, and nearly cried out in terror. For one crazy moment, he thought Lucien was going to hit him, but his father merely took another slow step forward and gripped Lucius' chin, wrenching his face up to stare at him full on.

"That was uncalled for." He hissed, his breath hot on Lucius' cheeks. "I could take away your very right to see Severus again if I wished, though I'm feeling especially generous today, and I'll give you a second chance, one you clearly do not deserve. I have turned a blind eye for too long. I have not been as disciplined as I could be. Do not force my hand Lucius."

Even if Lucius had wanted to continue in his abrupt tirade, he didn't think his tongue would have allowed him. Well, if for nothing else, at least one part of his body knew when to quit when he was down.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, even though he knew he didn't mean it at all. "I got carried away."

"Yes." Lucien agreed, still bristling. "You certainly did."

Lucius was tossed back roughly, and almost tumbled over, but caught himself just in time. Now was not the time for falling on his arse, especially when Lucien looked as if he was ready to unleash some more of his anger on anything that brushed him the wrong way. Supposing he was excused, Lucius backed away and left, trudging down the hall to his bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him and going to sit on his windowseat. Sighing, he pulled the curtains closed, hiding himself from the rest of the large, empty room, resting his head against the cool windowpane. He didn't feel much like doing anything, now that he'd started the day off on a sour note. The only thing he wanted was to see Severus again. They didn't even have to do anything together. He just wanted to sit in the library with Severus' calm presence somewhere nearby, and to know that he wouldn't leave.

That's what he wanted, and would give anything to obtain.

Severus liked Lucius from the very first, that much was obvious. He wasn't quite sure why, for a time, except for the fact that they were both very unhappy with their lives, and wished to escape their homes for Hogwarts as soon as possible. That would be three years in the making, so they would have to rely on eachother until then.

When Severus returned home with his parents after the dinner at the Malfoy's, Vessaire pulled him aside once Lucile had gone up to change into more comfortable bedclothing.

"You have done well, to gain Lucien's son as a friend." He told him. "The Malfoy's are a very influencial family in the wizarding world. One day, when Lucius is older, he will be just like his father, if not more so, and it will be him, and his closest allies calling all the shots."

Severus wanted to tell his father how wrong he was, that Lucius would never become his father if he had anything to say about it, that he despised anything and everything to do with what Lucien believed in. It was Lucius' single-minded mission in life to do everything possible so that he would never be the person Lucien wanted him to be. But he knew that Vessiare wouldn't listen, and he would just be repeating what every powerful man's son had said before. It would never be any different.

In the days that followed, Severus did his work, and gave his father no reason to be angry with him. Vessaire was on somewhat more friendly terms with his son than Lucien, but still was strict when it came to behavior. Severus wasn't exactly one to disobey rules, so he didn't have many problems with keeping it up, but after a while, he began to wonder if his father would ever suggest another visit. He was getting anxious for some reason, and he often wondered how Lucius was faring back at his own home, since he knew that Lucius was very much alone in that huge mansion. Lucius gave the impression he needed someone, and Severus believed that he could be that person, at least until Lucius discovered his own strength.

It was more than clear that Lucius did have his own inner strength. He just needed to be able to use it, without fear of being beaten down. Hogwarts was exactly the place for that, where you're able to let yourself grow and expand, and innovate upon your skills and talents. To be a Malfoy was to be strong. It would just take time with Lucius. He'd been smothered too long, and Severus had the idea that he was purposefully trying to fail, for what reason, he did not know. But other than that, Lucius would most definitely be a very powerful person, be it in a good way, or bad way, and if Severus had the chance, he would make sure he was beside him every step of the way.

When it was only a few days from the one-month mark since he'd seen Lucius, Vessaire announced at dinner that the following Friday, they would take a second trip to the Malfoy estate and make a day of it. The second Severus was finished his meal, he stole away to his room and scribbled a letter to Lucius, and sent it with his owl Enigma, watching the great tawny shape soar off into the distance, the note held tightly within its deadly claws.

Later that night, Severus was awoken from sleep as Enigma swooped back through his open window, and landed smoothly on the headboard. He made a soft little chirruping noise and flapped his wings as if preparing for flight, buffeting Severus' face persistently. It took him a few moments to realize what is was that was caressing his cheek as he rose through the haze of sleep, but suddenly he was very much aware, and sat up straight in bed, turning around to see Enigma giving him an amused look.

"What?" he snapped softly, removing the return message from his claws and tossing him an owl treat.

Severus unfolded the letter and read:

_Dear Severus,_

That's great you're coming again. I began to think you had forgotten about me. I've been having a rotten time with Lucien lately, and it'll be a welcome change, so hopefully nothing terribly horrible will happen between now and then to forestall this "get together". So until then, take care. I'll see you soon, I hope.

Lucius

Severus couldn't help but smile a little. Despite how serious Lucius always was, he could always have a somewhat light side. Even when his life couldn't get any worse, he somehow found the driest thing to say. He was just like that. Severus supposed he was that way as well; another thing they had in common. He sometimes wondered what kind of person Lucius would grow up to be, if he found some way to escape his father's overpowering clutches. Maybe he'd join the Ministry and become and Auror. He certainly had the courage, and probably the skill, even though Severus had little to nothing to base that on; but it certainly seemed plausible. Maybe he'd become a teacher, and find ways to instill his own values upon the future generations, create ways to show them what it really is to be a witch or wizard. Or maybe he'd go the whole nine yards and become Minister of Magic. That one was probably a long shot, but Severus liked to think that Lucius had the determination to do it.

After hiding Lucius' letter under his pillow, Severus lay down and slept away the rest of the night, waking up briefly to hear his father leave for work before falling off again. In the morning, he came downstairs and walked into the dining room where Lucile was sitting solemnly at the table, her head resting in one hand.

"Good morning." Severus said softly, sitting down across from her.

Lucile said nothing in return, her eyes fixed on a faraway point that Severus couldn't see.

"Mother?"

Lucile sighed heavily.

"What is it Severus?" she asked.

"I said good morning." Severus repeated. "You didn't answer me." He paused for a moment. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing." Lucile said quickly, her sharp eyes flicking to Severus. "One of those moments, you know…" she continued airily. "When you're not thinking about anything at all."

Severus didn't believe her. He merely smiled and nodded.

"Yes, I do know."

Lucile smiled in return. She obviously didn't think he'd caught on to the fact that she was thinking about things she wasn't supposed to. Severus didn't feel like wondering about what that might be though. He'd done enough thinking lately, especially on Lucius, and pondering Lucile's naughty thoughts wasn't exactly high on his list of things to do. He would let them wander idly about her empty head as long as they wanted to. Lucile didn't think about much, so he would give her that.

Severus decided to change the subject.

"I was thinking I might go to Diagon Alley today." He said. "Is that alright?"

"Yes, sure." Lucile muttered, rising to her feet and striding gracefully towards the door. "Take a few Sickles if you want…."

Her voice trailed off into silence as she left the room, and Severus soon followed after, turning down the hall and into the drawing room where the fireplace was crackling merrily. Beside the mantle, a small, round brass bucket hung on the wall, a greenish powder residing within. Severus approached and dipped his hand in, removing some of the powder and stepping to the side so he stood directly infront of the small flames.

Severus tossed the handful of powder onto the fire, which promptly emitted a loud bang, and turned the flames a sparkly green colour, doubling them in size. Having not done this quite a lot, Severus took a hesitant step backward, waiting a few moments to gather himself before moving forward again.

"Diagon Alley." He said firmly, then disappeared into the fire.

After a stomach-churning trip through the Floo Network, Severus tumbled into the dark, musty bar room of the Leaky Cauldron, dusted in a light layer of soot. He stood on shaky legs and shook himself off, trying to avoid the sideways glances that the few patrons around the room kept flashing in his direction. Behind the bar, a rather young Tom was drying out a glass, watching him warily.

"Hello there Severus." He said, his voice a trifle louder than it should have been. "I haven't seen you in quite some time."

At mention of his name, a handful of customers got up and left, their chairs scraping loudly along the floor in the heavy silence. Severus sighed, trying to ignore it. Just because his father was one of the greatly feared, and often suspected, men at the Ministry, didn't mean that he had to be treated the same way.

Severus approached the bar and gave Tom a small smile to show he meant no harm.

"Anything new in Diagon Alley?" he asked softly. "I seem to be behind on the times."

Tom laughed, a shaky, hesitant laugh that had no mirth.

"N-Not much." He stuttered, taking a sip from a glass of brandy sitting in front of him. "But you'd best look around for yourself. The Cauldron keeps me pretty busy you know…."

"Thanks Tom."

Brushing a hand through his hair, Severus exited through the back door, stepping out into the small square of scraggly lawn. Approaching the haphazardly stacked wall of bricks, Severus removed his training wand from his back pocket, tapping the right bricks in the sequence every one in the wizarding community knew by heart. There was a pause, then the bricks began to groan and shift, until there was a large hole in the wall, allowing Severus to step through.

Crowds parted as Severus strode along the narrow alley, glancing around him at the familiar stores and shops. There was a low murmur of talk as people went about their business, gaggles of young children herded from shop to shop by parents and older siblings, some perhaps searching around for choice items for the start of term at Hogwarts next fall before the crush of other students came and snatched them up near the end of August. Compared to the busy time just before the busy time just before the beginning of September, Diagon Alley was relatively empty, and Severus enjoyed being able to walk around without being jarred from side to side by passing people.

Entering Flourish and Blotts, Severus was suddenly and unexpectedly knocked over as a figure came rushing by, followed closely by another.

"Oi!"

The first one called, stopping and turning, halting his friend with a firm clasp on the arm.

"Sorry." He said, pushing askew glasses back up his nose. "I was careless."

His companion, a somewhat larger, springy, black haired boy offered a hand, a wicked grin on his lips.

"Forgive James." He said, pulling Severus to his feet. "He's just a clumsy arse. Most of the time I try to keep him inside, but he always seems to get out……"

Severus didn't quite know what to say to these two very strange boys, and simply stared at them until the one called James let out an uncertain laugh.

"I think I knocked him a bit too hard Sirius." He whispered. "What do you say for it?"

Lucius snapped out of his stupor, backing away from both of them a step.

"I-I'm fine." He said, trying to sound confident, but only succeeding in coming off as arrogant. He tried to smile, to make up for it, but he could tell by their expressions that James and Sirius only seemed to think he was sneering at them.

"Hey Sirius." James said tersely, his smile fading, brows creasing together. "I think I've an idea who this slimy git is. I'd bet my broom he's one of those nasty Snapes, aren't you?"

"So what if I am?" Severus shot back, unable to control himself. "How does that make any difference?"

Sirius grinned wolfishly.

"You know I don't know these grisly wizarding types very well James, but I can safely say this here boy is not a very nice young man."

Severus felt his heart begin to beat wildly, the anger boiling in his veins. These boys weren't giving him a chance!

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said fiercely. "Stop talking as if I weren't here."

James began to back away, tugging on Sirius' arm to bring him along. They were both smiling at him, a mocking smile that made Severus all the more livid.

"Well Sirius, I suppose we'd better leave this greasy git to his business."

Before Severus could say something in return, the two boys were gone, weaving through the crowds and out of the sight. Severus was left standing there, bristling with fury and indignation, his dark eyes burning like hot coals. He had to take a few moments to settle himself before he could even move from his current spot. Breathing slowly, he raked a hand through his hair again, passing out of Flourish and Blotts and into the Alley. Severus quickly decided he had had enough of Diagon Alley for one day, and still bristling, he stormed back to the Leaky Cauldron and crashed through the door in such a fit of anger, Tom nearly jumped out of his skin in terror.

"Severus?!"

Without saying anything in return, Severus snatched a handful of Floo Powder and chucked it into the flames, growling: "Snape Manor" softly under his breath. He didn't know why he had allowed himself to become so furious, how these boys had been able to get such a rise out of him. Severus was normally able to control himself. He wasn't an aggressive person, so he was surprised at himself at the way he had handled the situation.

The flames had exploded and turned green again, so Severus stepped forward and was sent rolling headfirst through the various tunnels and passageways in the Floo Network before tumbling back into the drawing room, once again covered in a layer of soot. Vessaire was casually strolling along in front of one of the bookshelves, one finger sliding slowly across the spines, and was startled to see his son come cannoning from the fireplace, his pale face darkened from the journey.

"Where were you?" he asked Severus, watching him from across the room.

Severus sighed heavily, shaking his robes out and wiping a hand across his face, which only smudged the door more.

"Diagon Alley." He said vindictively. "Though not for very long."

Vessaire raised one elegant brow. "Oh?"

Severus merely let out a soft, agonized groan, as if that alone could communicate what had happened, and no words needed to be said. Vessaire gave him a sly grin, then tugged one leather bound volume from the bookshelf and tossed it across the room, surprising Severus who only caught it at the last second.

"I found it." He said simply, watching for Severus' reaction.

Severus looked down at the book, where looping green letters winked back at him: _Advanced Potions_. 

"The book you were looking for!" he said, peeling back the cover and flipping through the musty pages, his dark eyes devouring each line hungrily. "It was here all along. How did you…..?"

"Think of it? I was ready to give up when I realized how stupid I'd been…..The only place I hadn't looked was the one place that was the most obvious." He laughed a little bitterly. "Sometimes I wonder if I really am getting old….."

Severus gave his father a secret grin, turning his face so Vessaire wouldn't see his obvious amusement. Vessaire was only just into his thirties, and yet he always seemed to think he was approaching forty. He certainly did look a little older than he should have, but not that much, at least in Severus' opinion anyway.

Just as he was about to leave, a sudden idea struck him, causing him to pause on the threshold of the hall.

"Why are you home so early?" he asked.

"There wasn't much going on at the Ministry today, so I left. I was told I wasn't needed."

There was something in his voice that told Severus that wasn't entirely the truth, but chose to let it lie. It wasn't odd that Vessaire would keep secrets from him; there were many things that Severus didn't know and probably would never know, and this was just another one to add to the list.

Snapping _Advanced Potions_ shut, Severus gave an appreciative nod to his father then left, going up to his room and carefully sliding the large tome onto his bookshelf in an open space. He changed his robes and washed his face, clearing away any soot that was left behind from his journeys by Floo. After turning off the tap, Severus regarded himself closely in the mirror. A pale faced, thin little boy with long black hair and enigmatic black eyes looked back at him with a sullen expression. He wrinkled his nose. Why did he always look so depressed? No wonder those boys in Diagon Alley had so easily mistaken his tentative smile for a sneer. If he'd been in their place, he would have thought the same.

"Smile Severus." He told himself sternly. "Don't be so dismal."

He smiled weakly at his reflection, trying to look….well maybe not happy, but at least somewhat content. It looked strange, almost as if it shouldn't be there, and Severus quickly let his lips fall back into their usual thin line, sighing through his nose.

"That looked fine dear." The mirror wheezed. "Let's see another one."

But Severus just turned away and closed the bathroom door behind him, content not to have to smile again. He went to their large, spacious library and picked out a book he had been reading, settling into a chair by the warm fire to read away the afternoon. 

Each second that ticked by was a second closer to seeing Lucius again, he hoped fervently that this wouldn't be the last.

A/N: Well, like it? This chapter was a long time coming, and again I'm sorry it took so long to come out, but I hope that whoever reads this enjoys it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Oh, and just to clarify, did anyone but me feel like cackling with laugher at the notion of Lucius: "becoming a teacher and finding a way to instill his own values on the future generations, showing students what it really is to be a witch or wizard"? I just couldn't help but snort when I wrote that….^_^ Anyway, please R&R!!!!!!


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